The Death of Innocence
by Bastetmoon
Summary: Murtagh has learned the same lesson time and time again: trust no one. So why would she be any different? But its hard not to trust that perfect mask of hers, so innocent so beguiling. Only he knows when it finally cracks and falls away he wont like what he sees.
1. Gift Giving

**Hello everyone. This is actually a heavily edited rewrite of one of my old stories which hopefully is A LOT better. This takes place during Brisinger and Inheritance and while it is a MurtaghxOC story Nasuada will also play a part. Nor is it your typical Murtagh falls in love with his servant story (believe me I've read a lot of those out there). I really hope people enjoy it and I'm sorry if this first chapter is rather short (don't worry they will get longer). Please leave a review and let me know how it is Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the inheritance cycle (as much as i may wish)**

Chapter 1: Gift Giving

"Sabina," Galbatorix 's voice rang through the silent throne room, "I'm so glad you could join us." Behind him Shrukien opened one icy eye.

The young woman who knelt before the throne bowed her head deeper. "Of course your highness." Her dark hair hung in a simple braid down her back, and her dress was plain black. She could have been any servant girl throughout the empire. But the jewel hanging around her neck gave her away. Servants did not wear diamonds. "What is it you wish of me?"

"You have served me very faithfully have you not Sabina?"

A slight smile touched her lips. "Your slightest wish is my command."

"Then I have a task you must do. But it is only for my most trusted servant."

She pressed her head against the cool flagstones, "I shall ever be your most loyal slave. What would you have of me?"

"You have heard no doubt of Murtagh son of Morzan?" His voice had taken on a hard edge.

"Yes your highness."

"Then you also know that he fought the traitors Eragon and Saphira at the battle of the burning planes." Sabina cast her eyes downward and said nothing. She knew by now not to speak when the king grew angry. "And how once they had been captured Murtagh and Thorn let them go?!" Galbatorix paused and allowed his voice to take on a gentler tone, "They must be watched, their loyalty ensured. I wish to prove to him that there is no escaping my rule." He cupped her face in his hands, "That is where you must come in my child. You have always been a good servant and an even better spy. That is why I am giving you to him, to make sure his loyalty never wavers."

She nodded, "I understand my lord."

Galbatorix's eyes gleamed, "He is currently being punished for his miserable failure at the burning plains, but when he returns I expect you to be waiting for him."

She bowed deeply and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Sabina, If you should succeed in swaying Morzan's spawn the reward will be greater than you can even imagine."

She smiled, "It will be a pleasure, my king."

.0.

Murtagh ached; his every bone muscle and sinew was on fire. It was a wonder he could even move much less walk. Though many of his wounds had been healed others had been left open. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the mental. Galbatorix had shattered his mental barriers as easily as he might glass driving into his mind like hot iron. Through their mental link Murtagh could feel Thorn in equal discomfort and it was this that truly pained him the most.

_We should not have spared Eragon and Saphira. _Murtagh growled, _It would have been easier if we had just taken them._

_ You did what you thought was right. _Thorn comforted, but Murtagh could feel that the dragon agreed with him.

With agonizing slowness Murtagh limped through the many halls of the citadel. The few courtiers he saw quickly slipped away, they knew better than to risk his wrath by now. When he reached the smooth stone door to his chambers he did not hesitate to push it open. All he wanted now was to rest and maybe get a hot meal from the palace kitchens.

To his surprise the room was not empty. By the carved wooden table a young woman dressed in black was standing. Her brown hair was braided back and he could see the hilt of a dagger at her waist. Despite his weakened state Murtagh sprung into action. This was not the first time someone had tried to assassinate him. Strangely she did not try to run, instead let out a startled yelp when he caught her around the neck.

"My lord!" She gasped as his fingers closed around her throat, "My lord! The King sent me!"

Murtagh's eyes widened and he released his hold. She crumpled to the floor in a heap. She tried to rise but Murtagh drew Zar'oc and pressed the point to her throat.

She smiled shakily, "I am not here to harm you lord Murtagh. King Galbatorix himself sent me."

Warily Murtagh sheathed Zar'oc. He still did not trust her, in fact the notion that Galbatorix sent her made him trust her even less. However, he knew the King would be displeased if he started killing his servants.

"Who are you? And what do you want?"

She rose unsteadily dusting off her long black dress. "I am Sabina, my lord." She curtsied and it was then that Murtagh noticed the large white jewel that hung around her neck. "The King Galbatorix has assigned me to be your…servant." On the last word she let her voice drop into a sultry tone.

He narrowed his eyes, servants certainly didn't wear jewels, or address their masters in such a way. He studied her face. She looked young, not older than seventeen or eighteen. Her grey eyes were wide giving her a startled appearance and her face was almost perfectly ovular. Plain, pretty, but plain, and there was an innocence to her features that made her appear small and childlike. But there was also a hint of cruelty in the upturned corners of her mouth that made him suspicious.

She tilted her head and smiled, "Is there anything you wish for my lord?"

Ignoring her question he tromped over the door to his bedroom. At the last moment he turned, "Tell the King that I won't be requiring your services." Then he slammed the door shut and collapsed on crimson sheets of the canopied bed.

_Well this complicates things doesn't it? _Thorn remarked with a touch of amusement.

Murtagh sighed, _I would have preferred if she had been an assassin. The last thing I need now is Galbatorix trying to meddle in things. _

_ The real question is why Galbatorix gave her to you. _

_ Whatever the reason it won't be good. _


	2. Servants and Spies

**Hello my lovelies! I'm sorry this chapter took so long, however, we are in the middle of finals right now at my school, so I don't have very much free time. I hope you enjoy the chapter :) **

Chapter 2: Servants and Spies

_Swish. Swish_. Sabina looked up in annoyance. Through the door she could see a plump maid changing the sheets on Lord Murtagh's bed. The maid's name was Alara, and with her sun tanned skin and mousy hair Sabina knew she must have come from a peasant family. She was one of three other servants that regularly cleaned the son of Morzan's chambers. Over the last week she had watched them, learning their habits, and memorizing their personalities. If she was to complete this mission then she needed to be aware of her surroundings. And the king demanded no less than perfection.

Sadly it seemed Murtagh himself was giving her a wide birth. She had not seen him since their rather awkward introduction. She did not even know if he still slept here; however, if he did he returned very late and rose very early. Sabina had often wondered if he already had taken a mistress, it certainly would have explained his constant lack of presence. The court was practically crawling with courtesans, and a man like Murtagh would likely have his pick of them. She hoped not, that would complicate things greatly. It was an easy enough thing to win a path to a man's heart through his bed, but not so when his bed was already occupied. Still, she believed the King would have warned her if she needed to dispose of Murtagh's girl first. Mistresses were not the problem here.

Sighing Sabina shut the book she had been pretending to read with an audible snap. Alara shot her a dirty look and sniffed disapprovingly. Sabin knew why. The maids—all three not just Alara—were resentful of her. The very first day they had asked her to help them wash Lord Murtagh's laundry. Sabina had refused point blank. What did they take her for? She was not the same sort of servant as them. Of course she still served, but she belonged to the world of night time and secrets whispered between the sheets. But that was all just a cover anyways. Because those same secrets that were whispered in the dead of night often had a way to finding their way back to the king, and if he was displeased who then would dispose of the unwitting noble man? No, Sabina's talents lay far outside the realm of domestic chores.

As she rose from the table the book tumbled to the floor. Sabina made no move to retrieve it, instead smoothed her silky black dress and checked her reflection in a small mirror hanging on one wall. Her dark hair was tied up, however, a few strands had escaped to frame her face, and her pale grey eyes seemed to shine. Sabina smiled and her cheeks dimpled, making her appear younger. _Perfect,_ she thought, _let Murtagh see me as young and weak. But sooner or later we'll see who's pulling the puppet strings._

There was a loud sniff from the door.

Sabina rounded on the maid, all traces of childishness gone from her face, "You've obviously got something to say. Spit it out."

Alara squared her jaw but Sabina could see a flicker of fear in her eyes, "We work all day, scrubbing our fingers to the bone, and you just sit around and ogle your own reflection. If you expect to serve the Lord Murtagh then you should at least put in some effort."

Sabina studded the girl then finally said in a low dangerous voice, "Have you ever killed a man Alara?" When the she did not answer Sabina continued, "I have. I've seen the light drain out of a pair of eyes. The fear as they look upon my face, the last face, the face of death. I don't imagine that you would be any different than those countless others. In the end they are all just corpses rotting in the ground. You see that is the difference between us two, you are the corpse and I am the victor. All people are divided like that, winners and losers. And in the end I am always the winner." The maids eyes were wide with fear. Sabina smiled sweetly once again, "I'm so glad to be serving alongside someone as understanding as you Alara."

Then she swept from the room. It did not matter that Alara now knew her true colors, she was irrelevant. It was Murtagh who needed to be deceived.

.0.

_You are preoccupied Murtagh._

_What? _Murtagh looked at the red dragon from where he had been polishing Zar'oc.

_Your mind is not in the present. What troubles you? _

Murtagh frowned. He had been thinking about the war with the Varden. _When do you think Galbatorix will send us back to the army?_

The red dragon shifted, _When he is thoroughly done teaching us never to question him again. _Although Thorns words were even enough Murtagh could feel the deep anger, and anger he shared, boiling through Thorn consciousness. Besides their individual punishments Galbatorix had also made them each swear half a dozen more oaths to him in the ancient language. They had resisted, but the king had used their true names against them.

Murtagh swore, _If I ever get my hands on Eragon again I will make him pay for the hurt they have caused us._

_ He did not mean us harm I think._

_ No. But it is because of him and Saphira that we have been put in this position. _

_Be that as it may you have more important things to worry about than exacting revenge._

_ Oh really. _Murtagh raised an eyebrow skeptically, _Like what?_

Thorn snorted, _Such as were you are going to sleep tonight. If you do not rest properly then you will be in no condition to fight anyone let alone your brother._

Murtagh fidgeted uncomfortably, _I will sleep here, as I did last night._

_ No you will not. You kept kicking me in your sleep! You should return to your own chambers. You cannot avoid her forever._

There was truth in the dragons words, though Murtagh did not want to accept them. Ever since Galbatorix had given him Sabina to be his slave he had been avoiding her at all costs. _I do not trust her._

_ You don't have to trust her. It's not as though you're sleeping with her. _

Murtagh frowned, _You know she is no common servant, one look at her tells you as much. I doubt she's done a speck of work her whole life._

_ Oh? Then what would she be?_ Thorn asked, though Murtagh's implication was clear.

Murtagh did not answer. Companion servants (or pleasure slaves as they were more commonly called) were not rare in the Empire. Many nobles kept servants as mistresses. One look at Sabina and Murtagh guessed that that was what she was. She may have dressed plainly enough but real servants did not wear jewelry. Not that that was really proof enough to label her as a courtesan. The part that made him wary was that she was a gift from the king. He very much doubted that Galbatorix would simply give him a servant for no reason. The king may have been mad, but he never did anything without reason.

_Fine. _Thorn relented, _You may sleep here tonight. But in the morning I expect you to go back to your room and stop cowering like a common soldier._

_ I have not been cowering!_

Thorn said nothing but through their mental link Murtagh could feel his amusement at the whole situation.


End file.
